The Consequences of One Night
by KitiKat
Summary: If only one could take back a night. Alex and Justin, in the heat of an argument, end up making up one night. Both agree it was a fluke, but neither dreamed of the consequences on their relationship afterwards. A story for older Justin/Alex shippers.
1. It was a mistake

Justin Russo was laying down on the bed: Tired; exhilarated.

Next to him, his sister, Alex. The blanket was down to her pubic region, her breasts exposed to the ceiling above, which Justin stared at as if he were afraid it would crash down on him.

"Alex." He said, his voice gravelly. "We made a mistake."

Not moving, she turned to look at him. "You had 45 minutes to realize that and you realize it after we, well . . ."

"Obviously," Justin scoffed. "I wasn't thinking then." He banged his fist lightly on the mattress, but hard enough so that Alex felt a vibration. "Damn it."

"Well, Justin," Alex said, hoping to diffuse him. "We did it and . . . it's over."

Justin was looking at the ceiling, but he still had the pictures in his mind of what he had done. He had the picture of her under him, looking at him. The way her face had contorted in pleasure. Since he couldn't get the visions out of his mind, he looked over at her anyway. It was not as if the visions were not strong enough already.

"Yeah," he said. "Over. Then what are you still doing here?"

"Honestly?" She stifled her laugh as much as she could. "You wore me out." He gave her a tight-lipped smile, not able to keep a gaze.

"Well, according to my wall clock it is 11:40. We already did it and . . ." he relented. "You can stay here tonight if you don't want to go back to your room. " Alex turned her head back and looked at the same ceiling as Justin. She felt if she got up, she would not be able to walk. Even lying here in the bed, her legs felt like sticks of butter or jelly.

"Justin?"

"Hmm?"

"Why did this happen?" He didn't answer. Alex sighed and put her arm over her breasts with one hand and ran the tip of her tongue over her lips. He suddenly spoke, sending a shiver through her as she anticipated an answer that she could not predict.

Nothing could be predicable anymore after tonight.

"When we were having sex, that's what I was wondering. How did it get to this point." Now it was his turn to sigh. "And I still don't know, Alex. I don't know."

"That helps," she said. Justin immediately thought that her sarcastic personality was partially what had gotten them into this mess in the first place.

"Well, I'm sorry," Justin muttered, giving her an eye. "I've never been in a situation like this before." He immediately felt sorry for losing his patience a little and he found her hand and grasped it in his. "We'll be okay, Alex." He squeezed her hand, her warmth against his. He forced himself not to think of the 40 minutes. Alex looked down. Their hands were barely hidden underneath the blanket. For some reason, it did give her a bit of comfort to feel Justin after their horribly awkward, yet highly satisfying encounter. Alex had to admit it. It had been satisfying. Though she was not going to admit that to Justin. Not yet. She was tempted to tell Justin that they probably should not touch. After having him inside of her, his body lined with her own, it seemed out of place for her to let go of her hand. The feel of his thick skin over bone was imminent.

Laying there, Justin zapped his alarm clock so that it was set for 6:15 for school.

"You know," Alex said. "I'm trying to sleep, but I can't."

"You're shaking. Are you cold or just nervous?" Alex looked back at him and almost didn't answer after looking into his deep eyes that seemed to search inside her. She had not realized she was shaking. She rationalized that her thoughts consumed her.

"I—I don't know." She said. Not knowing why, Justin hoisted himself up a little, pulled Alex toward him and nestled her against his body, her back against her chest. Neither of them spoke, and two minutes later, the siblings fell asleep in each others arms.

The alarm clock sounded like a faraway chime to Justin and Alex, who had gotten less than 7 hours of sleep. Justin didn't want to reach over and turn it off. He was so comfortable. So comfortable . . . with his arm around Alex and another over her torso, his hand landing at her hip. They had moved positions considerably in the night. He zapped the alarm clock with his finger and Alex stirred.

"Hey, sleepyhead," Justin prodded her with his arm, tapping the fleshy pads of two fingers on her stomach and bent his head down to kiss her forehead. "Time to get up and face the day." Alex, too, was comfortable with Justin holding her, but this was her brother. And he was holding her naked. Suddenly, yesterday seemed far away. She lifted herself from Justin and was pleased when she was able to stand as if yesterday she had just fallen asleep in Justin's bed. Justin made sure to turn away when the blanket fell to the bed and her nakedness emerged from its obscured view. Alex zapped on some clothes and zapped her hair straight. Her brother, ever still on a straight and narrow path when it came to magic, shucked some clothes on himself and smoothed his hair.

"I guess . . ." Alex said, looking dressed and fresh. "I'll meet you in the bathroom." Justin looked over at her. "Okay." He forced a grin.

No, they did not need to talk about it. If it happened a second time, sure, they would talk about it much more. Right now, he figured getting back to normal life was a big step in the right direction. He walked out of his room, closed the door and entered the bathroom, where Alex was already brushing her teeth.

It was as if nothing had happened. Justin grabbed his own toothbrush and brushed next to her, as he had done many mornings. As always, they had their little competition as to who could brush faster and had fun swishing their mouthwash. It was easy to act normal because before last night, they had been doing so all their lives.

"Before you do your hair gel," Alex said. "I have to use the bathroom."

"Okay." He said, getting ready to leave.

"You know," she continued. "If fighting brought us to last night, maybe we should really try not to fight anymore. See how that works."

"We are going to fight," Justin said. "Just that we should try to give in faster. And it doesn't matter who gives in."

"Right."

"It's not a contest," he added, looking straight at her. "Okay. Going now." Alex gave a little wave with her fingers. On the toilet, she gasped and held her breath in when what seemed like a dream turned into reality again when she discovered residue from last night. Feeling a bit numb and lightheaded, she cleaned herself up and flushed the toilet and then let Justin back in the bathroom. While he did his hair gel, she put on her makeup.

"Hey, Justin?" Alex asked, slowly applying lip liner.

"What's up?"

"Do girls look different after . . ."

"After what—oh, no, no. Of course not. They look exactly the same. I promise."

"Good," she said. "You on the other hand, you look like a stud." Shocked, and excited, Justin accidentally elbowed his hair gel into the sink and got closer to the mirror. "I do?" Alex nudged him. "No, of course not Justin. I was kidding. You still look like the same science geek that can't kiss a girl after the tenth date."

"You don't kid a guy about that stuff," Justin said, grinning at her. She smiled right back at him. Per haps they could salvage this after all. With Justin's sensibility and her sense of humor (which he obviously lacked), they could easily put the past behind them.

"What's for breakfast?" Justin cheerfully asked, coming down the stairs, Alex behind him.

"Eggs or a muffin. What do you want?" Theresa asked. Jerry, drinking his coffee, smiled at his kids.

"Muffin," Justin and Alex said at the same time. They looked at each other in shock.

"Too bad," Max said. "There were only 2 muffins and I took 1."

'You can take the muffin," Justin said to Alex.

"That's nice of you to give the muffin to Alex," Theresa beamed. "Now if all mornings could be this peaceful I would be so thankful."

"Well, we'll try," Alex said, grabbing the blueberry muffin. "Dad, what time is it?"

"6:55, to be exact," Jerry replied. Alex shrugged a little and took a huge bite out of her muffin. She went over and fluffed Max's wavy hair. "Give the boy a haircut," she joked. She liked his hair, in fact. She thought it added character. A few feet away from her, Theresa served Justin a scrambled egg. "Hurry up," she said, and started bustling around getting the sandwich shop ready for customers. "Jerry!"

"I'm hurrying!" he yelped. "Gosh, every morning she is "do this, do that." However, he muttered it so no one really heard him.

Alex finished her muffin in record time, hopping off the stool and throwing the bottom paper in the trash can. "C'mon, Maxie. You ready yet?"

"Hey, hey," he said. "Give a man time to savor his food."

"A man? Max, you're my baby brother. You still need to wear diapers."

"I only wet the bed because I fell asleep after too much orange soda," Max mumbled. "It won't happen again." Alex and Justin laughed at the memory and Alex ruffled his head.

"I hope you learned from that," Jerry said. "Orange soda ONLY in moderation."

"Right," Max said, his voice trailing off. "I'm done."

"I'll be right behind you guys," Justin said, gulping his eggs and slinging his backpack soon after his brother and sister exited the shop. "Bye, guys."

"Have a good day at school, honey!" Theresa waved at Justin with a large smile on her face. "Gosh. Is he a damn good kid or what?" She said to Jerry. He spooned eggs into his mouth and nodded. Meanwhile, Justin ran up to Alex and Max and they started on the trek to the subway station. Just another Friday rush. But Alex and Justin were both thinking that they were glad it was Friday. It would be nice to have 2 days to fully get acclimated to what would ultimately be a new relationship with what had occurred last night. Right now, the two siblings felt as if they were winging it.


	2. I'm over it?

The next few weeks went much easier for the siblings than anticipated. Their encounter many Thursdays ago was like a makeup to a fight for them now and their interactions with each other were of ease now. After 8 wizard lessons, the tension melted between them and each began berating the other and making fun. However, both remained reluctant to get into a true fight. They found it was easy to avoid. In a perverted way, sex with each other had brought them closer together and they worked more cohesively together when in the sub shop. Theresa and Jerry even ventured to comment on their cohesiveness.

"Well, Mom," Alex said, making a lamb and turkey sub. "We're getting older and we find that we . . . just don't fight as much." Justin looked over at her gave her a small smile. He went inside the back room to do the dishes.

"That's all I ever wanted. Ay Dios. Now maybe me and your father can take the family out."

"Yeah," Jerry added, taking over some used trays. "And not be embarrassed."

"Jerry!" Theresa waved him off and turned back to Alex. "Point being that when you guys aren't fighting, it makes for a much happier family. "

"Great!" Alex said, her voice dripping with chirpiness. She could only imagine how her mom would feel if she knew if they had to have sex to stop fighting. Not that they couldn't have done it without the physical contact.

Why could she not stop thinking about it?

"Hey, Alex, Theresa. I know you all want to chit-chat," Jerry said. "But we got customers. And we got bills to pay."

"Sor-ry," Theresa said. Jerry gave her a smile.

Alex felt like tearing something. We're so proud of you. Aren't you happy they aren't fighting anymore. Blah, blah, blah.

It was as if she was destined to never forget that night. Which she had made it a priority to do.

She knew it wouldn't be easy for Justin. After all, he slept in the room where it had all happened. Alex knew she had to hasten complete normalization not only for her sake but for Justin's.

She had been serving and subs all day today. Her feet were tired and her lower back hurt but she still persevered. The sandwich shop was important to the family. It was at the point during the day where the novelty wore off and she was going through the motions of serving and creating and feeling bored.

At 4:30, Harper came bounding in the sandwich shop, wearing banana earrings and her hair curled so that she looked more like a 1960s Peggy Sue. Justin saw her come in and rolled his eyes. Why did he have to be so devastatingly handsome? He languidly waved back at Harper, who never failed to wave at Justin, with a forced showing of his teeth in the formation of a smile and finished forming his sub. He liked to call it "Rockin On the Sub." It was many little sautéed meatballs on lettuce and bacon with special sauce and tarragon.

"Hey, Alex!" Harper's eyes danced with her usual hyperactive thoughts rolling out of her mouth like marbles. "I've decided I'm opening a business."

"A business." Alex feigned interest. "Cool. What type?"

"Guess." Harper's face was red and eyes wide as if it would turn into exploding dynamite.

"You are going to sell earrings in the shape of fruit?"

"You know, that's actually a good idea—"

"Okay." Alex interrupted, wanting to get it over with. That's not it; what is it?"

"Keep guessing!" Harper said.

"It's the dinner hour, Harper." Harper twisted her face into a sad "clown frown," as Alex liked to call it, and Alex relented. "You are selling one of your dopey clothes."

"You guessed it—hey!"

"And by dopey," she continued, I meant ropey. Remember when you made me a shirt made entirely out of ropes and the entire thing fell apart when I put it on?"

Harper's brow furrowed. "No." Alex put her arm around Harper.

"Well, it happened. And I'm thinking that with this clothing business you are doing, you could really improve on your dopey—and I do mean ropey—clothes.

Alex mentally patted herself on the back. That was a save if she'd ever done one. Justin walked past her with a huge tray of orders and drinks.

"Hey Alex. We need you," he said. Alex looked disgustedly at Harper, who was staring after Justin.

"Hey. You." Alex waved snapping fingers at Harper. "Adorable little person standing in front of you, supposedly the reason you came to the sandwich shop?" Alex shimmied in front of her and made fish faces.

"I see you," Harper said. "It's just that Justin looks so sexy making and taking those subs."

"Harper, focus," Alex said slowly. She grabbed her friend's arm and dragged her further from her vantage point of Justin. "Okay, so you're selling your clothes. That's great!"

"Yeah. My mom said she'd take me to the fabric store this Saturday and I could buy fabric with my own money from the 'Gurt Barn."

Alex walked toward the counter. "Okay, talk. I got to help out."

"So, I have a bunch of ideas," Harper said. "My dad is an accountant so he is going to help me figure out how much my clothes should cost. I said 100 dollars, but he seemed to disagree."

"Let me guess," Alex said, taking orders from her dad and putting them on a tray. "That's when he said he'd help you and did his eyes bug out a little?"

"No," Harper said, looking at Alex oddly. "Anyway, I'm going to make these cute shirts with hanging ribbons and bows and maybe piece some fabrics together. Alex, it will be _swell_. And if you want, you can be my first customer."

"Sure," Alex said. "You . . . making any socks?" Harper walked with Alex as she served up a vegetable sub with vegetarian bacon. What a crock.

"No. I'm making clothes."

"What do you call socks, then?" Alex walked back to the counter. Her mom touched her arm and leaned over to Alex's face.

"Honey, can you load the dishwasher?"

"Sure." Alex turned back to Harper. "In here. So, socks are underwear, then?"

"Yeah. They are worn under your shoes." Alex stopped loading the dishwasher. "Right. Hey, let's go in the lair."

"But you're supposed to be loading the dishwasher."

"Ugh, Harper." Alex opened the door and slowly walked in, throwing her head back. "I've been working all day, and my parents don't believe me when I say I'm going to do my homework." She relaxed against the sofa. "They'll probably find me in here." She got up and starting tossing a magic floating ball in the lair while walking around. "Where's your business going to be?"

"I was thinking right here, outside your sub station." Alex immediately had horrifying visions of sitting inside the restaurant all day while customers took one look at Harper's eccentric designs and heard one peep of her high and peppy voice and walked right by, passing up the restaurant in their haste to get away from Harper. Then they would have to take out bunches of loans and by the time Harper was done selling her wares, their missed customers would be too scared to come back.

"I . . . have a better idea," Alex said, "You sell your stuff outside of that new sub shop so that people will be so distracted by you, they will forget all about that horrible sandwich shop. Just walk right on by!"

"Alex." She turned to look at her dad. "Get in here! You can talk to Harper while you do the dishes."

"That's okay. I just wanted to tell you what I was doing," Harper said. "We'll talk more at school on Monday."

"Right on," Alex said, trying not to sound sarcastic. "See you, Harper." Outside of the kitchen, Theresa and Justin waved goodbye at her.

"Is she ever going to stop?" Justin asked, slicing vegetables.

"Stop liking you or stop thinking she has fashion sense? Both of which I can't understand." Justin sneered at her a little. "Good burn."

"Why, thank you" Alex said, obviously puffed with pleasure. "I do try." She sauntered into the dining area and served up more subs. She really hoped she would win the wizard competition. She would make her mom and dad go into the All-American restaurant business where she would never have to see another sub sandwich again.

Closing up shop, Alex, Justin and Max, who was given a reprieve from his homework, cleaned up the dining area once again.

"You going out tonight, Alex?" Justin asked.

"Nah. I'm going to stay in, chat with some people on the Internet. Maybe go on the World Wiz Web." She listlessly wiped the table.

"After-work blues, huh?" Justin said knowingly, drying off his table.

"I got after-homework blues," Max said.

"I know those," Alex said, smiling a little. "Justin, you going anywhere?"

"Me and Zeke and a couple others will probably go Glo-Swimming." Justin aimed for the trash can and his shot went in. Max threw up a hand to give him an "up-top." And the two brothers celebrated the victory that in reality held little glory.

"Sounds fun. What's that?" Alex asked.

"You can't come," he said. "No offense."

"None taken," she replied, trying for a shot of her own. She missed and jogged over to get the disposable cloth. "Especially because I was just wondering what it was. You know I never want to go out with your stupid friends. Well, except for that one girl. What was her name? Susan. Or was it Sasha? Look it doesn't matter, anyway."

"She was just being nice to you," Justin said.

"She told you this?" Alex challenged him.

"Yes." Alex could tell he was lying.

"Ha! I know when you're lying." She threw her used cheesecake cloth at him.

"You've hit me with dirty towels so many times that you might as well have …"

Oh no.

Alex was very aware of the same feelings creeping up that had when they had the last fight bigger than this one. She turned around and concentrated on scrubbing the table. She loosened a dried splatter of sauce and finally annihilated its existence until the next messy eater, but kept on rubbing and squirting with brand name surface cleaner. The same feeling that had led her to letting Justin grab a hold of her and passionately kiss her like no one had before. She could almost see the images . . .

"Alex." His voice was behind her now. Thank goodness Max and their parents were around. "I was just going to say that you might as well have hit me with a dragon scale." She forced a laugh. "Right." She fought to kick the nausea that had cropped up from knowing she had actually wanted to kiss Justin again. What was it with fighting with him that made her want to lock his lips over hers? Why now . . .

Looking around, Justin murmured to her, "It will take some time, Alex. We're doing good." She finally turned and smiled at him and quickly turned her head back around, finishing the rest of the table. Of course. Something that big that happened would not just go away. If they had gotten close to kissing, sure, she thought she would be over it by now. If they had kissed? She probably would still have residual feelings.

"Hey, Dad." Max piped up. "Can we play some virtual soccer after this?"

"Sure we can. Hey, we'll do it up in the sky where there is free air space. They usually clear some up on Saturdays and the geese usually stay away."

"Awww, geese!" Max gushed. "That would be so cool if a goose flew into the soccer ball and made a big hole in it and it started flying with a soccer ball in its mouth." He nodded and grinned. Alex looked over and Justin and silently laughed with him, putting her hand over her mouth to stifle any hiccups. Max's full powers were in sync with theirs, but his logical reasoning was perhaps light years behind.

Spending time with Harper and Max, she realized, were some of the best forms of medicine yet. They made her remember what was real and what was true—her friends and her family. In a time that she needed them, they were there for her like they had always been. Alex then made the important, yet peaceful, realization that she had taken them for granted. Well, not anymore. Along with the upheaval of promises made the past few weeks, she made herself one more. And the corners of her mouth turned up when her dad explained to Max that a goose could not fly with a soccer ball stuck to his beak.


	3. Justin goes out

Max was then sent to start wiping down the doors. "As quick as you can!" Jerry said. "I want to see if Voldermof is there. I have a score to settle with him."

"Jerry, I thought you said: 'No more magic tricks on Voldemoss.' You yourself said it was irresponsible and silly."

"It's Voldermof. And no. He put itching powder in my underwear. It's payback tonight. No wizard is going to beat a previously power-winning wizard. I may not be a wizard, but I know magic, and Voldermof is going to realize that I can outwit him powers or no powers. " He pulled up the drawstring on the trash bag and slung it over his shoulder like a soldier. "Sometimes a has-been wizard has to do what a has-been wizard has got to do."

Alex had to laugh at that. "Oh, come on, Dad. If that was any of us, you'd be yelling at us telling us how immature we were being and that you were going to refuse to take us up there." Justin nodded in agreement with her, spritzing, wiping and drying tables like one of his well-oiled robots.

"I'm sorry guys," Jerry said, standing up straighter. "I stand by my principles." Alex and Justin turned slightly to give each other a disbelieving look.

"You know what? I'm not a wizard nor was I ever one, so I don't care!" Theresa put up her hand in defiance, walking to the back kitchen area. "I'm going to disinfect the kitchen."

"Go Maxie, go!" Justin coaxed him from a booth. "You're dad's only hope!"

"Oh, come on, Justin," Jerry scoffed. "I'm just maximizing my time; doing 2 things at once. I wouldn't be planning my revenge if Max here didn't want to go up to the air space and play some soccer with our fellow wizards." Alex was laughing. "What?"

"You said maximizing."

Jerry threw up his head and shot it back down. "I thought you guys would be on my side in this."

"Oh, we are," Justin said. "It's just that . . ." he looked back at Alex and they started laughing quietly. Jerry shook his head and headed out to dispose of the trash.

"Dad is so competitive." Alex remarked to her older brother. Talking helped her forget that she felt dead on her feet. "We so get it from him."

"Alex, all wizards are competitive. At least the ones I've met." He hit her lightly with the spray bottle. "Last 2 tables are yours. I win." Alex mimicked him as he walked past, scrunching her nose and contorting her mouth.

"I saw that," he said. He stowed away the cleaning supplies. "Okay. I'm getting ready to go out. Have fun, Max."

"How could I not have fun?" Max asked. Justin threw up his hands. "I don't know." He turned and started jogging up the stairs. He was dressed in a cotton T-shirt that wrapped around his muscles nicely and loose jeans with just the right fit around the crotch and a smaller waist so that the jeans fell just at the bottom end of his natural waist. Normally, he would have gone out like that, but the shirt was old and the jeans had holes at the bottom. He tried to be a snappy dresser. Zeke thought it was because he had a crush on Susan. He had said it months before and only in passing, but Justin hadn't forgotten it; what if it was true? He considered Susan one of his best friends.

He opened his door. Once again, his bed was the first object that came into focus.

Everyday that he came in the room, the same physical reactions occurred. His breath bated and he could feel saliva pooling under his tongue and his arms had adrenaline coursing through them, or so it felt. His lips splayed apart as he kept himself from having flashbacks. It had been over 5 weeks since the aftermath of the fight and he still could not walk in his room without stopping and losing and promptly collecting himself.

Lucky Alex. She didn't have to walk in the room everyday. Her room was still hers. He couldn't get the image of Alex in his room out of his head. That they had actually let it go so far. Justin closed the door, and was free to close his eyes and throw his neck back and mutter, "Oh, man." Doing anything sexual with Alex had never even crossed his mind beforehand. They had been at a crossroads in the fight, neither saying anything to back up their position, when he found himself crushing her against him and pressing his lips against hers and finally kissing her hard.

Justin wasn't someone that easily let go of a thought tainted with regret. He walked over to his closet and picked out a button-down plaid shirt over a black short-sleeve and his usual khaki pants.

He felt like he was in a room of sin. Just being in his room made him feel guilty. He could have stopped. If Alex hadn't been so damn insistent and proactive in her kisses and her touches, he might have been able to stop her. Maybe they would have wondered what had happened and just gone on.

Justin was not religious, but the past few days, which were quite a while after what had happened—over a _month_ ago, he had wondered if he would feel better confessing his sins to a priest. Any priest. He had seen confessions in movies on television and on pirated Internet movies (his guilty pleasure). He was almost certain that confession would not absolve him, but it would make _him_ feel better. Keeping it a secret, he felt, was making them even guiltier. Then again, whom could they tell? A priest seemed to be the most feasible option. Hell, he knew so little about religion that he didn't know if a priest was the one in the confession box. Wizardry was his religion.

_She told you this? Ha. I know you're lying._

It hadn't been what Alex had said. It had been her reaction to their words in succession. Just seeing her react to his intended lighthearted jab was enough to rekindle restrained feelings. But he had to be strong for his sister. She was the emotional one. It was probably even harder for her to be around him.

In a box in his closet, Justin removed a scrap of paper.

EASTERN CATHOLIC RELIGIOUS WORSHIP—LAVERSTOWN

9302 OPHELA AVE

ROCHESTER-BAPENS ST-WAVERLY-YINGA-MALTUSE

He felt weird just reading the paper. But he shucked off his clothes and dressed in his finer attire and picked up the paper to put in his pants pocket, securing it with the button. Justin then grabbed his swim trunks, goggles and flippers. He would go rogue and leave his breathing apparatus at home.

Oh, as if he could go anymore rogue. He stuffed his accessories in a bag and turned toward the bed again.

The side that Alex had slept on was still untouched since that night. He could have washed the sheet; changed the pillow. But he felt guilty just even fathoming the happenstance of touching it. Justin deftly ran his teeth over his bottom lip and changed his away message on his chat program.

---Out with friends glow-swimming and who knows what else. Call the cell :-] I'll be back by 11.—

The unsavory metallic taste of sub sauce, uninvited, nestled in his mouth and he hoisted the bag, though not heavy at all, to go to the bathroom and brush his teeth and maybe do some touch-up shaving.

Alex heard the click of the doorknob opening and she ran as quickly as she could to her room, energy suddenly coursing through her and, her body feeling like lead on feet, shut the door just before it would click, and she heard Justin's footsteps in the hallway. Breathing hard, trying to keep as quiet as possible, she listened until the bathroom door closed and she quietly turned the knob until the door would quietly shut without interference. No, she had not been listening at the door. Just been staring at it for the past 3 minutes. It was like staring at the scene of an accident she had been a part of and not able to see the two cars; instead seeing a police barricade. Alex couldn't help but be curious about what would happen if she were to go in there again just to talk to him again. She figured that if they were to suddenly kiss again, having sex with each other would not have been because of the passionate fight.

Oh, well. She was exhausted. And her cozy bed would give her the perfect place to think or sleep, whichever came first. She lazily flopped down on the chair in front of her computer and began a whirlwind session of exchanging instant messages. She finally snagged herself an outlet with her away message.

--Tired from working all day. In bed doing some thinking.—

However, reaching her bed and plopping down to only rest and think for a little while did not happen; she promptly fell asleep, still in her clothes and her silken hair still in its sporty ponytail.

Justin peeked into his parents' room. "Goin' out now."

"Alright Justin; have fun!" Theresa looked up and smiled at Justin.

"Will do," he replied. Theresa's eyes glazed over to the other side of the bed and then her eyes re-met Justin's. "I'm just alone tonight. My husband could be here with me but instead he's playing kid games with what's-his-face."

"Max did want to go up to play soccer," Justin reminded his mom. "He'll probably be back before I will. And … you have Alex."

"Tried talking to her. She fell asleep. She looked exhausted."

"You and dad treat us like slaves. No wonder she's down for the count. Hey, um, I got to go Mom, soooo . . . see you tomorrow."

Theresa smiled again. "Great. Bye, honey." Justin smiled at his mom, sitting there lonely, yet relaxed and finally exited downstairs to the dining area, where he brandished his phone and sent Alex a text.

--MOM LONELY, IF U WAKE UP B4 DEY CUM HOME TALK TO HER A LIL. CU—

Naturally, him and Alex being in the most difficult time of their lives right now, he checked over the message. "Shit," he muttered. He erased "cum" and replaced it with "arrive." He could have used "come," but he figured better safe than risk an uncomfortable glance from Alex later. Just in case. He knew that anything could trigger a memory. He pressed a button to return to the main screen and glanced at the time. Damn, he probably would already be on his way already if it weren't for his damn hang-ups that rendered him useless for a few minutes. It wasn't that he had feelings for Alex, he knew. It was that he felt so dammed guilty.

He would not think about Alex tonight. It was sex after a fight. A passionate response to a passionate argument. He had nearly forgotten what it was about.

Now if he could only do the same for that night. Forgetting. He was almost certain that if Alex hadn't gotten flustered or if he had been more careful speaking to her, he wouldn't have been so consumed tonight by complexes and swirling ideas and repetitive memories. Today was just a bad day for Alex-forgetting. The shop was left unlocked, presumably for him, and he exited, locking the door in case a drunk were to come in. The air was fresh and the atmosphere bustling with night crawlers walking to Waverly Place clubs about 5 blocks down. Texting his friends on his cell phone, Justin occupied himself on the walk to the subway, walking faster than he normally did due to his little siblings not accompanying him. Tonight, he would distract himself. Propriety would take a backseat to debauchery, he told himself. Lots of screaming; lots of yelling; lots of talk about nucleosynthesis; lots of swimming.

Just like with other weekends.

The subway was crowded, but not so much that Justin couldn't easily slip through the throngs of thick people and strolling couples. As always, he held onto a pole so that those that needed a seat, or hell, even wanted a seat, could take it. Unlike a lot of travelers on the subway, Justin willingly made eye contact with a few passengers as a show of friendliness. Or perhaps it was out of boredom. He wasn't sure.

It took him 15 minutes of travel time to arrive 3 blocks from the club that boasted a swimming area with fluorescent lighting and a state-of-the-art candescent and color combination of lighting in the pool, which reflected throughout the entire room. While on solid ground and not around dirty hobos and muscle men, he got out his cell phone again. Alex had texted him back minutes ago, probably while his phone had been muted under the subway stereo system.

--AWWW. ILL CHEER HER UP TNKX JUSTIN—

Indeed, she would.

The fitness/spa club insignia came into Justin's vantage point and he walked even faster toward the building. He switched off his cell phone. No more texts from Alex. Tonight, he would raise the roof.

Or maybe, Justin thought, he was just making himself even more promises he wouldn't keep.


	4. Glo swim

He entered the building, and like before, he stated his name, which was already in the system for the pool reservation Kyle had made. The club hosted over 10 grandiose meeting rooms, which Zeke had confided in Justin were mostly used as fuck rooms for teens that couldn't catch a moment alone. The area in which Justin checked in rounded out into a cylinder-like dome with warm-toned décor with a lobby forking into a cafeteria, a sitting area and a business room. Beyond the niceties and down a flight of open stairs with two parallel descending pairs of steps connected by a resting platform with a rail for one's viewing comfort of yet another sitting area lay the true amenities. And Justin headed down to the main event of the night. He could hear the noise of loud guys and the lull of a bass line. He hoped there were cool tunes.

The lights of the pool hit him full force in the face, his eyes quickly readjusting to the lights. It was an amazing display, he thought, truly. The water sparkled underneath what he thought was a combination of blue and green lights both on the walls and ceiling with a fluorescent hue coming from above. He had peeked in here before, but only looked because they could not get a reservation for glo-swim until tonight.

"Justin!" Zeke came over to him. "Dude, there you are. What the hell were you doing?

Trying not to think about sex with Alex. What else do dudes do on a weekend?

"I had to close up shop. My dad was taking Max out to play some soccer. Had to be stuck there." He was shouting a bit. "How many people are here tonight?"

"It's crazy. 11 of our friends showed up." He pointed. "Check it. The ultimate dance floor. In a pool!" Justin slightly raised his eyebrows at Zeke's excitement but looked over to the far end diagonal from the pool. A group of girls in bikinis, looking about college age, he surmised, were gyrating their waists and hips to music he could not distinguish. Their hair dazzled in blinking, colorful lights and their feet were submerged in shallow rushing water.

"That water," Zeke said, reminding Justin of an overzealous college tour guide, "is ice cold. That's the beauty of it. You dance until you can't feel it. You can't get that anywhere else, man." The perfect getaway.

"That's awesome," Justin replied, not focusing so much on talking to Zeke as he was on soaking in the scenery. "You don't look like you've been swimming," he finally said.

"Me and some of the guys have been chatting. You know, acting cool for the ladies."

Justin couldn't help but be overly amused. "Is it working?"

"I think they noticed." Justin couldn't prevent the amusement from crossing his face. "Justin Russo, I guarantee. By the end of this night, we will have talked to at least one college girl."

"Right," Justin said. "Where's the concessions? I want to buy myself a root beer."

"You have money?"

"Amazingly, yes, I do."

Zeke pointed. "Ova' there. I'll signal to you when you're done, man."

"There's no beer here, is there?" Justin intended to party with his head clear. Not to mention party without breaking any laws. He felt himself starting to drown in the atmosphere, the noise getting inside his head, gelling itself with any other stray thoughts.

"They don't allow outside beverages."

"Okay. Meet you over there." Justin pointed for no purpose at the group of their friends and walked over to the concession, putting a little more swagger in his walk as a continuation of his plan to let loose tonight. A shirtless man was standing with a white-toothed grin and an oversized hat, possibly to draw attention away from what Justin considered a hairy chest.

"Hello. What can I get for you today?"

"Root beer." Justin said quickly, reaching into his wallet in his bag.

"You going to be drinking hard or drinking soft?"

"Huh?"

The man rolled his eyes up for a split second and rephrased. "Small or large glass?"

"Oh, small. Don't want to get too drunk," he joked. The man chuckled and worked a soda jerk so that frothy liquid simmered slowly to the top of the glass. "Return the glass here when you're done," he said. "1.75." Justin wasn't rich; 1.75 was a lot. But, he had the money, so he gave it to the man, counting out exact change. If this were Alex, he knew she would freeze the man and hop behind the counter to take out a few cents to even out the inflation.

Ah, what the hell. He would only live once, at least until science caught up with dreams.

"Gialsjay Timesday." The man suddenly took the stance of a statue. He had already opened the register and had deposited the money. Re-asserting his balance, he started hopping over to the swivel door that led to the back of the counter.

"Ahhh." Justin lifted his fist in half-frustration, half-realization. He couldn't do it. As much as he wanted not to, he'd pay for the overpriced fountain drink. His consciousness between right and wrong almost always got the better of him. He started to wonder if he was breaking down. He hopped back to where he had been before and put his foot down. He lifted his drink to the man. "Thanks a lot, sir." For freezing a guy, the least he could do was offer his gratitude for his services.

"Hey, kid. Come back here." Justin turned around, a small lump in his throat for almost no reason at all. He had already been about 40 feet away from the counter.

"I charged you wrong. It's 1.25 for root beer and 1.75 for a beer. I'm sorry."

Justin broke into a grin hearing this. "Good thing you caught me."

"Good thing I said anything at all. I've gypped a few customers back in the day. But you're a good kid. Couldn't do that to ya." The register clinked and Justin held out his hand for two quarters. "Don't spend it all in once place," the man grinned.

"Right. Thanks again. Actually . . ." Justin gave him one of his suave grins that he usually gave for appreciation to people he liked more than he did 20 seconds ago. "Thanks a lot." He turned and almost ran smack into Susan.

"Susan, hey." He gave her a quick hug. Her body was the perfect mold for a print bikini that tied at the sides and, as he could tell from the hug, at the back. Her blonde hair looked beachy, falling somewhat stiffly at her fair-colored middle back.

"Great party, huh?" She flashed him a grin. Although her chest flashed at him from under a flattering bikini, and although deviant thoughts coursed through him like flashing sparks of light, his eyes naturally focused on hers.

"Yeah . . . you know, I think I accidentally made that guy at the counter think I was gay."

"Why? What'd you do?"

"I thanked him too much." He said it in a lower voice and she laughed, her head bobbing up, then down. "Oh, Justin. So what? He should know that you can't tell if someone is gay by the way they talk. Hey." She thwacked him on the arm. "Don't worry about it." The friends looked appreciatively at each other for a few seconds until Justin spoke, having studied her for those few seconds.

"You haven't swum, either? I thought that was a large part of glo-swim. You . . . swim."

"And play," she added. "I came at the beginning. There was a water volley game going on and I was here early and I joined in along with a few of our friends."

"Did you win?" Justin started wondering if he would have to drink warm root beer.

"I'm pretty good at sports. But no, we didn't win. I was having trouble calculating the right trajectory of the ball when coupled with the force of the water on my ankles and feet. If I could have done that, we would have won in a heartbeat!"

_Right. _

"If there's another game, I'll be on your team. I'm a top-notch volleyball player," he boasted. That was true. He remembered a trip to California when he was 12. He and his mom played against Alex and their dad, creaming them mostly because of Justin's already tall frame and strong arms that just knew how hard to push the ball—and where. I'll have the other team begging for mercy." He made a crying face and then smiled at her again. Well, at least she looked amused.

"Get changed into your swim trunks," she said, turning toward where Zeke, Kyle and the others were. "You're in for a lot of fun tonight."

Alex was contemplating.

Unlike other times, she wasn't contemplating what shoes to wear or what belt to would go best with her bootcut jeans with faded knees and rhinestone pockets. That was what she _should_ be debating. She was thinking of whether or not she should look into Justin's room. She had passed by after talking to her mom and then she had to look back. And when she did, she just did not look away.

Like a car accident. Except if she opened the door, would she see bodies. That was the everlasting question of curiosity.

She breathed in a little and pursed her lips and set them apart again. She had done this before, and she kept telling herself that going in the room again could mean closure.

But she also knew that it could set her back 5 weeks. Before they had gone too far and had actually left fights without feeling the need rip off each other's clothes, she could mess up some of Justin's stuff if she wanted or move one of his collector's action figures to get him in a tizzy. He could be expected to retort with one of his 18 different tones for "Alex!" Now, it was as if even putting her fingers on the doorknob would set off some sort of chemical reaction that she didn't know about.

Well, she had almost flunked pre-chem. What did she know about chemistry?

She just still could barely believe it had happened.

"Walk away, Alex," she finally told herself, heading determinedly toward her room, now even more of a refuge than before. "Walk away."

Justin pulled back the privacy curtain. He never liked curtains for changing room doors or even stalls for public bathrooms. He always had that nagging dread that someone would look under the stall and see his manhood dangling. And then laugh. Therefore, Justin had taken extra-special care in changing, holding the bag in front of his crotch and pulling off his pants with one hand. Verily, he could have used magic. But the crop-up of his ever-present conscience beforehand at the kiosk had jilted his desire. Using magic in front of other people also made him nervous sometimes. A hole showing half his leg length didn't help matters.

Susan was holding his root beer for him a few feet away, seemingly whistling and her body turned toward their friends. Well, there were 2 empty chairs. There were about 30 people in the room now.

"You can really smell the chlorine when you go in there." He told Susan when he got out. He gave an embarrassed smile. "I kind of like . . . the smell of chlorine."

"I know. Especially when they put a lot in."

"You, too!" Justin was thrilled to have a chlorine-sniffing buddy.

"Yeah, I think I told you. Remember in 9th grade when we all took a trip down to the lake in advanced biology and we were testing the effect of chlorine levels on big and small fish?"

"Vaguely," he replied, nodding his head slightly and cocking it.

"And you said you loved the smell of chlorine, and I told you I loved it, too. But we weren't friends back then; we were just making small talk, you know."

Susan liked to talk a lot.

"I don't remember, but I will take your word for it," he said in his tone of voice that screamed, "I'm kind!" He looked over to another area of the room; now that he was at the opposite end of the entrance, he saw something that intrigued him.

"What's over there? It looks like a rainbow. Of . . . rain." It truly looked amazing. The walls surrounding the falling water, which he thought was recycled through a tube of sorts, were painted in atmospheric tones and a special set of lights offset the water so that the entire scene looked like a storybook utopia.

"It is!" She pointed. "See, there are people sitting in it. It's like sitting in the rain, except you don't catch cold."

Susan was really excited, her head swerving from the falling rain to Justin as she talked.

Justin smiled, flattening his lips as he did so. "Wonder if any of us will actually swim." She seemed to ignore him; she took his hand and started leading him to the artificial rain display. Justin was shocked that she would be so overtly flirtatious, but she let go of his hand after maybe 4 seconds (he had counted). Well, Mike had told him that Susan may like him.

"C'mon. Let's go. We can talk more there!" And he followed Susan, who was a pretty quick walker. He would go where the night took him, and now he was about to get wet.


	5. Hanging out with Susan

Justin couldn't help but look at Susan's behind as she walked and the way it curved with respect to her back. He did not get much of a chance to look at her like this, so this was a well-received opportunity for him. He was almost caught when she looked back at him, though only to see if he was behind her. Now Justin could see that the water came down in quick intricate droplets, reminding him of dotted lines. Music that captured elements of New Age combined with soft rock filtered through the area, It was like a drug and Justin could feel his muscles relaxing; his eyes dampening with induced tranquility as he heard the rain falling and the drum beats and beautiful female vocals trembling their way through the song. . .

_"Alex, I—" _

_"Shh. Shh."_

_"You okay?"_

_"Mmmhmm. Just kiss me."_

"Hellooo?" Susan's face was in front of him, giving him an amused smile. "I know I'm boring and everything, but I'm sending you into a trance?" Justin sheepishly put his hand on her shoulder.

"No, no. I got lost in the music. I do that sometimes. I like music."

Susan giggled. "Tears of Blood, right? T.O.B? I see you wearing their T-shirts a lot. So you like other music?"

"I tolerate it," he joked, feeling back with the living. There were two unoccupied chairs around the water. Susan went under and through the water and he followed her. The calculated drops felt like bursts of cleanliness and the light made Justin feel like he was in a rainforest, having traveled to the future. He was the Martian and Susan was the perky host. The very perky host.

"I've heard their music," she said, settling down in a chair and crossing her legs, "but I've never taken to it.

"You're into bubble-gum pop and classical music, right?" She looked into Justin's eyes for a few moments and then looked somewhere past him. "I don't know. I'm just your average girly-girl."

"You scored a 97 on that advanced math exam. Average? I don't think so."

"Compared to you and Nick? I think I am," she smiled. Justin noticed how the droplets of water on her platinum head reflected as light red. "Justin, I want to ask you something. Something really . . . some would call it personal. I don't know. Maybe I'm asking you this because we're in this great place."

"Susan, just ask me," he coaxed her.

"Did you and Miranda really . . . go all the way?" Justin laughed.

"We did. We did those 50 holes of mini-golf in 2 and a half hours. I think that's part of the reason why she broke up with me." Susan wasn't laughing.

"Yeah. I meant . . . sex."

"Who has been saying we've had sex?" Justin leaned forward and looked toward Susan. His eyes betrayed him once and he personally chastised himself.

"The popular kids that are involved in a lot of activities. You know, the ones that are smart and are friends with the brains in the 12th grade. And then one day I heard it from Eric that they had said it."

Justin was a bit annoyed that she had to ask. "Of course that's a lie. Sex before marriage is _not_ a good thing to do. All we ever did was kiss 3 times and hold hands. That's it."

"Hmm." Susan seemed to be taking it all in and she watched as Justin sipped his root beer. Justin was aware of her looking at him and he sipped his drink with tension building in his temples. He never felt comfortable with people looking at him and not knowing what they were thinking. It felt like a one-on-one conspiracy theory.

So he looked back at her. "I love it here," Justin quipped, stirring his drink with his straw. "I guess if we did this more often, we'd get sick of it." He made sure a friendly smile was on his face as he said this.

"Some things," Susan said, seeming as if she was drifting now, "you can never get sick of." Justin then made a realization.

"Oh, shoot. I left my bag by the dressing room."

"Yeah," she said, sitting up more. "You better go get it." He hoisted himself up from the chair and backtracked through the sultry water display. Leaving the utopia didn't detract from the ambience of the rest of the pool. They were in the same building, but they were just different, but oddly, equally on the same footing, just the same. The glowing pool water, the underwater dancing, the eating area underneath a sprinkler of fluorescent water. New worlds combined.

Justin grabbed his bag and turned toward the still-conversing group of his buddies, but he changed his mind and opened the bag. He switched on his cell and looked at the glowing screen. A text from Alex.

HAPPY AS A CLAM. I KNOW HOW TO TREAT OUR MOMMY. NIGHT J, CU TOMORROW.

Justin instantly wondered why she had spelled out the first part of the message, but in her endearment to him, a "good night" and a "promise," she obviously skimped on the texting.

Stopping with the analyzing. He shook his head. No. Forgetting. Damn, He had to do it.

It was too late, though. Justin hadn't thought the whole text through and through, but it was already coursing through his mind, pushed back until later to mull over and feel guilty about:

The words 'night' and 'tomorrow' were spelled out. 'Justin' and 'see you', two of the riskiest possible things to do, and those having to do with him, were abbreviated. As if only thinking about him would stir up memories. Justin knew the obvious well. Right now, the obvious was that he never should have succumbed to turning his cell phone back on.

Alex awoke from her sleep later that night. She drowsily raised her hand and plopped it on the alarm clock, which she turned toward her so she could squint at the time, not wanting to open her eyes. It was 5 in the morning, a time when some were getting ready to go to work, but the Russos always stayed in bed. She gathered her wits about her and swiveled her bottom toward the edge of the bed and got out. She felt like she was walking on air. Needed more sleep.

The light was on downstairs in the sub station.

Justin was completely naked on the counter, posed like some regal Greek God, one hand holding his penis in his hand, his stare at her a horny, desiring one.

"Justin!" She couldn't think of anything else to say.

"Hey, baby. I was thinking about that fight we had yesterday." He jumped off the counter and Alex blushed. It hadn't been a fight. Just darn close.

"Justin?" She took a step back not in fear, but sheer surprise. "What is up with you?" She felt a slight stirring in her loins and fought the urge to let it dictate her moves toward a meandering Justin, whom was using his muscled arms to lift himself off the counter without using his lower body, except for impressive leverage, like a pole gymnast.

"I think we need to settle the fight. Right here, right now. Alex found herself naked in front of her brother and she looked at his taut body in front of her, proud and strong, his face a portrait of pride. "If we do it here, I promise we won't ever have sex again," he said, stroking her hair. "Sex is the answer." He said it as if it were a unique declaration.

"Fine by me, Justin." His lips fell upon hers and she felt her body being moved parallel to the floor. The windows were open and Justin had turned on loud music, but she didn't care. He knew what he was doing, and she kissed him back, savoring the shape of his soft lips on hers; the feel of his hand massaging her aching loins.

Alex sat up. "Wait!"

The room was quiet. Alex could hear the sound of quicker breaths. The almost-inaudible hum of her Apple desktop. The feel of Justin's oral manipulations upon her receiving lips and tongue fading fast. After all, they had not been real.

Curious, Alex looked at the real time. It was after 8:30. Feeling like the room was spinning, she turned her head back to its straight position and kept on breathing deep, mangled breaths. The sound of her breath comforted her, but also unnerved her. She became aware of the tension her scrunchie created as it pulled her hair up and away from her face into a ponytail, and she nonchalantly pulled out the scrunchie, letting it rest on her lap.

A dream. Just a dream. It had not been the first dream. However, each subsequent dream made her feel more and more uneasy. Never before had Justin actually held his erect penis in front of her in a dream. Tonight, though, she had let herself go. That way of thinking was wrong. It was just wrong! An argument from Justin, and not even a serious one; one that months ago would have been forgotten by now. What frustrated her was the fact that it had not even developed into an argument. She left her bed and sat down at the computer. Started looking at websites for Rina Beth; Jessica Raundy; Vonas Brothos; even Leonardo DiCaprio, an old standby good-looking guy her mom had gotten her into. Her images from the dream seemed to be fading. Justin's sinewy arms and lean legs were fading.

Except they were the same in the dream as in real life, which she still hadn't managed to selectively forget. Darn Vonas Bros shirtless photos just did not have the same intensity to overpower a real-life experience with Justin Russo. Damn dream. Those unconscious visualizations so eloquently called "dreams" did her in every time.

Justin's arms and legs flailed and kicked powerfully as he tried to keep up with her movements.

Susan's swim stroke was a good one; a fast one. Though she was a girl, and shorter, her family had gone to the beach plenty when she was younger. Justin knew there was a spell for swimming faster, but his rigid, yet well-meaning, dad had not gotten around to it yet. He probably did not want them to have an unfair leg up on the competition. Justin frequently turned his head to breath, though he was really looking at his progress in the water. Susan's arms, shorter, were less graceful than his, but they packed a powerful punch when swishing beneath the flowing water surface. Although swimming within lights and a glow-in-the-dark fluorescent part of the pool was thrilling enough, Justin found the opportunity to beat Susan more thrilling. Each had bet that they themselves would win. The winner's reward was watching the other do the limbo. A small but vital attraction near the pool. Neither was keen on doing the limbo. Susan found it embarrassing and exploitative; Justin had almost thrown out his back last time he had tried. The prerequisites were 10 laps of front crawl; 6 laps of backstroke; 2 of breaststroke. Justin had it in his head an ABBA song from Zeke's stereo. "The winner TAKES it _alllllll_ . . ."

He was also thinking of red bunny rabbits and rectangle pancakes. It had been "Russo Whacky Magic Afternoon." Everything had set the scene for fits of laughter. Among his many other hilarious spells, he had made his father's feet float up above him, animated two dancing Hawaiian chicks and made them flirt with him, made two balls dance in the air, turned the floor into grass, and for the time being, gave himself the nose of Brad Pitt. Putting the spells to a mental montage of Abba music while listening to semi-popular house music made way for a bodily rhythm to develop.

Susan seemed to start to tire after the 3rd lap of backstroke, and he used this to his advantage, streamlining his strokes so that he rested some and was able to make up for it later while Susan seemed to already be exhausted.

"See you later, Justin!" She sang out, passing him up with swift kicks underneath and above the water. Oh, shit.

Justin picked up the pace, biting his inner lip and concentrating solely on the water and moving through it like a fish. He didn't have the grace of an Olympic swimmer but he was strong and the water's resistance was just enough to cause his muscles to work. He figured that his breathing was what slowed him down.

"Oh, no. You ain't getting away—from me." Justin clamored until he caught up to Susan and kept in time with her renewed strokes, realizing that talking between strokes was a mistake; he was now more out of breath, wishing he could take a break. He looked over to see if his competitor possibly felt the same way. Her mouth was opened, but he didn't see up and down movement coming from her. He was sure his chest was heaving. Or his cheeks were shaking from pressure. Who would notice? They were surrounded by light that made them blend in with the background as just two swimmers; nothing to see. Justin was a fair person. If he swam the whole said race and she finished before him, he would take his punishment. At poolside, cascading himself into the wiry plushness of a lounge chair, was Nick Yultz, timing the race with spectator cheers, Justin found his friend's name amusing because it sounded "Nicholas." He held that over his friend's head. No one else had seemed to catch on to his somewhat unfortunate name. Still, Nick and Justin were good friends and hung out.

He had finally pulled ahead of Susan again at the last lap of backstroke, her in the flower-power glory of a fashion swim cap that did not even cover all of her head. He quickly tried to figure in his head. If he had it correct, he was ahead of Susan now and he still had juice in him. Assuming that she wasn't holding out some mind-blowing female strength, he figured she would pull ahead in the end now, if he wasn't careful. Perhaps she didn't know that he was calculating his victory; based on his past experiences with her deduction skills, he wouldn't be surprised.

Justin took a deep breath and began the breaststroke. Victory was his in two laps. Nick Yultz could cheer her on all he wanted. Justin owned the breaststroke.


End file.
